My mother has just returned from a trip to Bali. She calls me to boast about recognising a prominent Perth underworld figure on her return flight and rasping at him in her 78 year old voice, “Been keeping out of trouble have you Johnny? She gloats. I cringe. I’m reminded of a trip we made together, a few years back.
On that occasion, upon arriving at the airport ahead of our Bali flight, we were re-acquainted with a couple of men whom we knew to be associates of the abovementioned figure. My surprise became nervousness when they explained that their travel itinerary was the same as ours. But I hadn’t mentioned when we were returning!
My mother, renowned for her tactlessness, walked away assuring me of her ability to be tactful when necessary. Over the next week we had many encounters, including a lovely dinner, with these men relating their surfing stories and we relating our shopping stories. All was well, with my mother reminding me of how well behaved she can be.
At our final breakfast, Mum and I lingered, watching the surfers in front of the restaurant and absorbing every last bit of the beautiful Balinese food, music, humidity and serenity. We spotted our “travelling companions” catching their last waves alongside the skilled and agile Balinese surfers when I casually remarked, “the Balinese seem to be much better surfers”.
At check-in, our friends kindly absorb my homewares shopping into their light surfing luggage, when my mother screeches. “We saw you surfing this morning – YOU’RE NOT VERY GOOD!” I want that concrete truck to just come and bury me right here, right now, but I sincerely hope that my only punishment will be embarrassment.
As I prepare for my European River Cruise, I wonder what gems my mother has in store…
You have 3 weeks of your mum behaving tactfully. Keep and eye out for the concrete truck. You will need it.
ReplyDelete